The thank you warmed Serena’s heart slightly, the sincerity in Clara’s voice tugging at something deep and aching. Still, there was a pit in her stomach that refused to ease. Seeing the way Clara lived broke her heart into smithereens. A doll and a hairpin would not even constitute a bandage to her living situation.
If it were in Silverstone, she would have dragged the girl to the shelter dedicated to orphans or children whose parents were not capable of taking care of them. Serena always provided her services for free at that shelter, thankful most of the pups were healthy and kicking.
She did what little she could—stitching wounds, treating fevers, cooking when she could—and most of her earnings were funneled toward meals for them each week. But here, in Ironshade, her hands were tightly bound. It wasn’t as though she could say, Come with me to the castle. Live there instead. And even if she did, what then? What would become of Clara when Serena left Ironshade?
She refused to be a source of grief once the first snow melted and spring rolled around. Clara’s request upon meeting her was not forgotten.
Do you think you could take me back with you to Crimsonclaw? I heard there’s snow everywhere and so much food and nicer necklaces.
So much food... Serena rose and turned away briefly, a feeble attempt to get her feelings in order. The room suddenly felt tighter. Clara must have been scraping meals together—counting crumbs, stretching rations. Her lip caught between her teeth as her gaze flicked briefly to the crooked shelf that held a single jar of oats and little else. Darius had said this happened often, and maybe he was right. Maybe it was realistic. But it didn’t sit right with her.
"Do you like them?" she asked.
Clara nodded and placed the doll on her lap. Her thumbs brushed over the uneven stitching as if it were spun gold. Finally, she looked up at Serena and nodded.
"I love them," she said in a breathy tone.
Serena glanced at her skirt, and there was a streak of dust on it, but she had not bothered to dust it away. She was watching Clara intensely.
"Did you make the doll yourself?" Clara asked.
Serena’s shoulders eased for a second. "Yes, I hope it is not too ugly."
Clara let out a breathless laugh. "She’s perfect," she said. "She even has hair like mine."
"I thought you’d notice," Serena murmured.
"Do you live here alone?" Darius asked, interrupting the two girls’ conversation.
Clara lowered her hand into her lap. Serena could see the obvious discomfort that the question put her through. The girl folded her lips and then looked at Darius.
"I do. Grandfather passed last summer," Clara said honestly.
Serena looked down briefly and sighed. She already knew that the only soul present in the house apart from them was Clara’s. It was desperation that had driven her to come see her and ask her to take her back to Crimsonclaw.
"I see," Darius said.
The man looked at Serena, who had her eyes glued to the floor. It was a horrible situation that Clara was in. With her grandfather, the burden could have been shared easily.
"No relatives around?" he asked.
The girl merely shook her head. She was truly alone. Darius blinked slowly. He was formulating a plan in his head. It was out of the question. He had to harden his heart to some degree; every single orphan who looked at him teary-eyed would have found themselves in his castle if he did not do that.
Serena frowned at the interaction. She wondered how she could approach asking Clara how she had survived all this time. Instead, she smoothed the fabric of her sleeves.
Clara shot up from the cushion and looked at Serena with widened eyes. She clutched the gifts closer to her chest. "I have to serve you hot tea."
Serena merely stared before the words registered in her brain. Clara had said she would do so in her letter addressed to her. She forced a smile and nodded. "Thank you."
The young girl scampered out, placing the doll and hairpin on her head before she disappeared through the door. Serena followed her and peeked through, and Clara was nowhere to be seen.
She walked back to see Darius with a grim expression on his face and a hand on his chin. Serena settled into the wooden seat next to the cushion and sighed. The rightful source is novelFirｅ.net
"This is bad," she said after a while.
"It is, but..." He paused and shook his head. "Thornridge has been one of the poorer areas , a bit behind the cities. They are a hunter-gatherer town."
Serena nodded out of habit. She did not care about what he was saying. Her mind was plagued with the suffering that Clara endured.
"I want to do something for her, maybe live with her..." Serena said absentmindedly.
"No," came Darius’ swift reply. "If you act , then you will not be able to help anyone else after that."
Serena looked at him and raised a brow. Darius noted her confusion and explained further.
"Look, I know it is hard to see someone so undeserving of this fate, but life is unfair. I try to make it fair, but if I focus my sights on one person, then I won’t get anything done. Do you see?"
Serena looked at her hands and clenched them. Despite his words, she felt helpless—not because she could not argue and press Darius until he agreed with her. No, not about that. It was the first time in a long while she had remembered how short her stay in Ironshade really was. All because of a black-haired girl.
"I understand," she said in a small voice.
"What you can do is visit and give her some kind of comfort. I will ask Cedar to look into Thornridge. This is home, after all."
Serena swallowed. Something will be done, thankfully. "Alright."